The Godfather
by kelsey-alt
Summary: What if Sirius Black had not been framed for the Potters' murders? How would Harry have grown up being raised by his Godfather in the Wizarding world? AU obviously
1. Prologue: A Fate Undeserved

Author's Note: I do not own the rights to any characters, spells or places already thought up by J.K. Rowling herself. I do not seek to gain any money from this work, I am doing it solely for the purpose of expressing my creativity. Please enjoy the fruits of my labors. Thanks so much to **Crumple-Horned Snorkack Hunter** for previewing this chapter and inspiring me to write a Harry Potter fanfic in the first place! If you haven't started her story _Demistifying Lily Evans_, do so now! Now, without further adieu...

* * *

**Prologue: A Fate Undeserved**

* * *

"James, it's getting late," a petite, auburn-haired woman said. "I'm going to put Harry to bed."

She picked up her sleepy fifteen-month-old from where he was playing with a set of muggle blocks and placed him on her hip before heading upstairs to draw him a bath.

"I'll be up in just a second, Lily my love, I'll just clean up down here," James responded. His hazel eyes followed his wife's form up the stairs of their quaint cottage in Godric's Hollow before scanning their living room, surveying the mess of toys and books that was spread over the entirety of the floor. He wondered how on Earth a toddler could create such devastation before he acquiesced that Harry was indeed his father's son. With a flick of his wand, the disheveled mess that inhabited the rich wood floor of the cottage zoomed back into its proper places around the room.

James stifled a yawn before he pulled out an old, antique-looking mirror from his pocket.

"Sirius, you there?" he said into his reflection. Upstairs, he heard the bathwater trickle to a stop; the splashes and giggles of his son brought a smile to his kind face.

"Oi, I'm here. Just about to leave Grimmauld Place," a disembodied voice spoke. "Prongs, Earth to Prongs!"

James looked back into the antique mirror only to see his best friend Sirius looking back at him. "Lily's about to put your godson to bed. Thanks again, by the way, for the toddler-sized broom you gave Harry for his birthday. He wobbles when he walks, but never falters on that thing. He's a natural! I can't wait to see him flying for Gryffindor." James ran a hand through his unruly black hair, reminiscing about his days as a Gryffindor chaser. "Anyway, get your arse over here so we can talk business."

"I'm actually going to be a bit later than I had originally intended, James," Sirius responded from the looking glass. "My sweet, sweet motorbike was just returned to me. Rubeus managed to get more dirt on it that I've ever seen, so I'm going to clean it off and take it for a spin to see how she rides before I come over to Godric's Hollow."

"Don't you think a huge, flying motorcycle will be a bit conspicuous?" James asked. He knew Sirius leaned towards the flash and glamour most of the time, but _these times_ were all about remaining unseen.

"Don't worry about it. I just put an invisibility booster on this baby. Still trying to work out how to silence the muffler though…"

"Speaking of invisibility, would you mind bringing my cloak back? I've just got one of those feelings, like I'll be needing it soon."

"Sure, Prongs. Quit worrying so much, though. Dumbledore's got you covered."

"Yeah, yeah, see you soon, Padfoot."

"Right." James tapped the mirror with his wand tip twice and his own reflection returned to the glass. He ran his hand through his mess of hair before pocketing the looking glass and heading upstairs.

Halfway up the stairs, he turned around, feeling like he had forgotten something. Shrugging, he returned to his ascent.

When he made it to the top of the stairs, a stumbling one-year-old Harry who was wrapped in a deep crimson towel greeted him, his bright green eyes alight with happiness as he made his way to his father.

James picked Harry up and spun him around until he erupted in a fit of laughter.

"I'll assume that you'll be the one to clean up his sick after you've spun his dinner right out of him," Lily joked to her husband.

James took Harry to his room and changed him into his bedclothes. When Harry was settled down, Lily came in and stood by her husband at Harry's crib while she sang him some muggle lullaby about a crib in a tree. James loved that she kept to her family's muggle ways, even when they weren't allowed to see her sister and brother-in-law.

After Harry nodded off, James and Lily made their way down to their small library to wait for Sirius' arrival. Both knew that tonight's meeting was not strictly a social call. The couple was going to talk to Sirius about some pretty deep issues.

James sat down on the overstuffed leather sofa; Lily conjured up a fire before snuggling up next to her husband. She looked up into his eyes for a moment, just absorbing each other in their gazes before James broke the silence.

"I'm so glad Harry's got your eyes," he nearly cooed. "It'd have been a shame if he looked exactly like me, he'd have to try so hard to get the ladies."

Lily laughed at his joke, pausing to remember how he tried so hard to court her. Although she secretly fancied him since year four, she wouldn't allow him to date her until he stopped his bullying on Severus Snape, her first wizard friend. James was so cocky when she'd confronted him about his bullying in their fifth year.

_"You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant, bullying toe-rag, Potter. Leave him alone." _

_"I will if you go out with me, Evans. Go on, go out with me and I will never lay a wand on old Snivelly again." _

_"I wouldn't go out with you if it were a choice between you and the giant squid!" _

But, less than a month later, she'd started being civil to James Potter, allowing him to properly court her before they officially began their seventh year as a couple.

Lily was pulled out of her reminiscing by a stiffening of James' posture. He had always had what muggles called a 'sixth sense' about danger, probably from getting into so much mischief with the Marauders at Hogwarts, but in these dark days, Lily and James both knew to never second guess their gut instincts.

"Lily, do you remember where I last had my wand?" James asked his wife.

"Umm, last I remember you were using it to keep Harry from falling off his little broom," she responded.

They got up and walked towards the foyer on their way to the living room. When James had one of his feelings, the couple did not separate. Just as they reached the far side of the foyer, closest to the living room, the front door was blasted off its hinges and a dark, cloaked figure appeared in the doorway.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Lily ran up the stairs while a wandless James stood his ground.

"Step aside, Potter, I did not come for you tonight," Voldemort's high, reedy voice was almost a whisper; his mere presence chilled the air. "I am here for your son. Stay out of my way and I will not harm you."

"You can't have Harry!" James held himself firm, despite his yearning to grab his wand to defend himself.

"You are defenseless, Potter. And you reject the Dark Lord's mercy? The Dark Lord does not dole out mercy every day, Potter, it is unwise of you to pass up this opportunity." Voldemort glided closer to James, over the threshold, as if hovering on air.

"I won't let you take him, Riddle." James sneered Voldemort's true name through gritted teeth. His bravery was the last straw in Voldemort's eyes.

"Avada Kedavra!"

James Potter's lifeless body fell to the floor in a flash of green.

Voldemort ghosted up the stairs of the Potter's house. He glided into Harry's nursery to find Lily taking Harry out of his crib.

"I am not here for you, Lily Potter," Voldemort breathed. "Be smarter than your husband. Give me the child and you will remain unharmed."

Lily simpered at the revelation that James was no longer alive.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead," she pleaded.

Voldemort was untouched by her motherly devotion. "This is my last warning."

"Not Harry! Please, have mercy! He's just a baby, not Harry! Please, I'll do anything…" Lily's pleading did nothing for her case in the Dark Lord's eyes. He only saw it as weakness, and Lord Voldemort did not tolerate weakness.

He pointed his want at Harry's small, innocent body. Lily tensed and turned to shield her son just as Lord Voldemort uttered the killing curse for the second time that night.

Lily's form crumpled to the floor, still clutching her young son as the last bits of life left her eyes.

Harry began to cry. His wail stung the Dark Lord's ears- if there was one thing Voldemort detested more than weakness, it was crying, he couldn't take it. Here was the child who, if allowed to grow, would cause his downfall, and he was crying.

Voldemort could not stand to hear the toddler's weeping any longer. For the third time that night, he uttered the most unforgivable of curses:

"Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of emerald green light flew out of the thirteen and a half inch Yew and Phoenix feather wand towards its designated target. Upon nearing it's target however, the light split and bent around the infant Harry Potter, as if an invisible sphere was protecting him. The green light then rejoined on the other side of Harry and flew towards the window, effectively breaking the panes.

This occurrence served seemingly no purpose other than to anger the Dark wizard. He had never encountered anything that kept him from carrying out his most favorite of curses. Even the most highly accomplished witches' and wizards' blocking charms and shields could not stand up against the Dark Lord's power.

_Maybe, _he thought, _I am not actually hitting the child, but his already dead mother. _

It was like the muggle adage of beating a dead horse, although Voldemort would never admit to thinking about muggle things. Lord Voldemort glided over to the still body of Lily Potter and used his wand to move her out of the way since, in his eyes, even a _dead_ mudblood was undeserving of his foot touching them to kick them out of the way.

With the body of his mother no longer shielding him, Lord Voldemort took a powerful stance and aimed his wand directly at the toddler, just a foot from his head.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Once again, a jet of emerald green light shot out of his wand tip, headed straight for the young Harry Potter. This time, however it managed to get within an inch of the child's face before bouncing straight back into its caster's chest. The explosion that coincided with this occurrence was so intense, no one ought to have survived. The entire nursery was on fire, save a small area around the boy and his mother.

Suddenly, there was no man- if you could call the Dark Lord a man- standing over a baby, though his essence still remained. Instead, there was a pile of robes and one yew, bone and Phoenix feather bringer of pain and death on the floor.

The fire quickly died down, though the baby continued to cry. It was as if his tears were drowning out the fire- _just like magic_. The boy crawled to his mother's still warm body and curled up in her arms one more time before drifting off to sleep, a small amount of blood trickling from a cut in his forehead, tears still running out from his eyes.

* * *

Author's Note Part Deux:

Yes, James _was_ a chaser in his Hogwarts days, you can Google or Harry Potter Wikipedia it. I'm trying to stay as close to cannon as I can, considering it's an alternate universe story, so things like the wands and known histories up to this point in the story have been researched.

Some of the quotes in this chapter are of Ms. Rowling's own invention, not my own- such as when Lily defends Severus against James in their fifth year, etc.- and I borrowed them with loving care. She owns all.

Please let me know how you feel about my story by dropping me a review- it really means the world to me.


	2. The Saddest of Beginnings

Author's Note: I do not own the rights to any characters, spells or places already thought up by J.K. Rowling herself. I do not seek to gain any money from this work, I am doing it solely for the purpose of expressing my creativity. Please enjoy the fruits of my labors. Thanks so much to **Crumple-Horned Snorkack Hunter** for previewing this chapter and inspiring me to write a Harry Potter fanfic in the first place! If you haven't started her story _Demistifying Lily Evans_, do so now! Now, without further adieu...

* * *

**Chapter One: The Saddest of Beginnings**

* * *

Sirius Black flew over West Country on his way to his best friend, James Potter's house. He marveled at how well the new invisibility booster on his flying motorbike worked, almost as well as James' invisibility cloak, but not quite. Sirius reflected on all of the trouble the Marauders got into during their Hogwarts days thanks to that cloak as he flew over Britain at twilight.

Although he normally visited James, his wife, Lily, and their fifteen-month-old son and Sirius' godson, Harry, under pleasant circumstances, tonight's projected topic of discussion was to be on a more melancholy scale. The Fidelius charm Dumbledore had cast over the Potters' cottage at Godric's Hollow less than a week ago was in question.

When casting of the charm was still in debate, Dumbledore himself had offered to be the secret keeper. James insisted that Sirius be secret keeper. Sirius had offered Peter Pettigrew to be the secret, secret keeper. His plan was to make Peter secret keeper, but make it seem as though Sirius was. 'The old bait and switch' he'd called it.

When the spell was cast, Peter ended up being the secret keeper, as Sirius had suggested, but only James, Lily, Peter and Sirius were in on the ruse.

Tonight, Sirius was headed to talk to James and Lily about actually making him secret keeper, as he felt like Peter's neurotic nature would be a hindrance to the Potter's safety. He and James were already in agreement, but as all married men know, it's better to keep the wife in the loop now to avoid confrontation later.

As he neared Godric's Hollow, Sirius dropped below the cloud bank only to see a devastating sight: the Potters' cottage was not only clearly visible- a sure sign that the Fidelius charm had been broken- but smoke was lingering above the small house, seemingly coming from his godson's broken nursery window.

Sirius quickly parked his motorcycle a few houses down from the Potters' and threw on James' invisibility cloak, which he had placed in his sidecar to return to James, per his request.

Quietly, Sirius walked down the street to James and Lily's house, wand drawn, looking for any signs of life or danger. When he reached the open gate, he noticed the cottage's front door was missing.

Forgetting stealth, Sirius ran up the path, climbed the short flight of stairs leading to the stoop where the front door should have been. He looked inside the doorway to see the bright red door on the floor in the foyer, James Potter's body at the bottom of the stairs.

"James!" Sirius whispered fervently, walking towards his dear friend. "Prongs, get up!" He knew as soon as he touched James' quickly cooling body that there was no hope. His best friend was gone.

Hot tears stung his eyes as he climbed the stairs, still hidden underneath the safety of the invisibility cloak. He turned to Harry's nursery and the sight nearly made him double over in heartache. Amid the carnage of the room, Lily's lifeless form was circled around her son's body.

All seemed to be lost as Sirius stepped into his godson's room: James, his best friend since his first time on platform nine and three quarters, dead; Lily, James' loving wife and perfect counterpart, dead; Harry, James and Lily's son, Sirius' godson, the sole reason for all of the charms and enchantments on this now broken house, dead.

Sirius bent knelt to the floor, the weight of the situation too much to bear.

"How could this happen?" he lamented. "Everything that's worth anything to me is gone!"

His sobs caused something in the room to stir. Immediately, Sirius jumped up in a defensive position, momentarily forgetting he was still sheathed underneath his best friend's cloak. He searched the room to find the source of the movement. After his eyes made a sweep around the broken room, they landed back on Lily and Harry- Harry! The baby boy wasn't dead after all!

Sirius pulled off the invisibility cloak as he walked over to his godson. He pulled Harry away from his dead mother and examined him before clutching the child to him with no intentions of ever letting go.

Aside from a lightening shaped cut on his forehead, Harry seemed to be in perfect condition. Well, as perfect as a child can be after he's been laying in his mother's dead arms surrounded by the smoldering remains of his life. Sirius quickly covered Harry and himself in the invisibility cloak.

Just as he was turning to leave Harry's demolished room, Sirius felt a chill steal over the room. He turned around, swearing to himself that someone else was in the room, only to be met with emptiness. He took one more look around, eyes sweeping every nook and cranny of the nursery as a gust of wind flew in through the broken window, and with it, the last warmth of autumn swirled around the desolate remains of the Potters' lives.

Harry's cooing pulled Sirius out of the trance he was in and he promptly turned on his heel and headed down the stairs.

At the foot of the stairs, Sirius maneuvered around the body of James Potter and through the living room into the kitchen where Lily kept Harry's baby formula and food. With a flick of his wand, Harry's diaper bag flew into the room and promptly filled with essentials: formula and food, diapers, Harry's favorite blanket and some clothes.

After this, Sirius could not stand to be in the house any longer. He exited the back door to find Lily's owl, Normandy, on his perch. He quickly pulled out a pencil, which he had pulled from the knick-knack drawer in the kitchen, and a piece of parchment and penned a frantic letter to Dumbledore.

_Albus,_

_James and Lily are dead. I've taken Harry with me to my safe spot. Please meet me there immediately. Keep Normandy with you… she has no home anymore._

_-Padfoot_

Sirius rolled the note and tied it to the tawny owl's ankle with a leather strap before she set off. He then made his way, Harry drifting to sleep again in his arms, to his enchanted motorbike.

He couldn't bear to let the now orphaned child out of his grasp, so he conjured up what he could only describe as a papoose, since he knew very little about baby things, and effectively strapped Harry to his chest. Sirius wrapped the invisibility cloak tight around himself and Harry before kicking off into the sky once more.

The ride back to Grimmauld Place was silent, save the rumbling of the motorbike's mufflers. Harry fell asleep quickly to the gentle vibrations and was suckling his thumb and dreaming in no time. Sirius only hoped that his dreams were pleasant ones of his parents and not memories from this horrible Halloween night.

As he neared Grimmauld Place, the yet-unbroken Fidelius Charm that was placed on number twelve yielded its contents to its secret keeper, Sirius Black. The unsuspecting muggles that lived on either side of number twelve didn't even feel the magical shifting that occurred, which pushed out the row houses eleven and thirteen to reveal number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Bricks split into more bricks, then windows, and then finally a door was revealed as number twelve was fully exposed to its owner. Sirius parked his bike right outside the landing and made his way into the house hastily.

This was no house for a child to live in; in fact, Sirius rarely inhabited the place himself, save when it was absolutely necessary. He hated the house he grew up in and inherited, it was just another glowing sign of his pureblood lineage and his family's dark past.

Upon opening the front door, Sirius was forced to side step a large umbrella holder that strongly resembled an elephant's foot. He closed and locked the door before turning to walk down the long hallway, passing the dining room- the only room on the floor.

"Kreacher," he called out when he reached the stairs at the back of the long, slender row house.

"Yes, Master," a scratchy voice responded with a pop as the house elf apparated on the stairs below Sirius.

"I'll need a bottle made for my godson when he wakes," Sirius ordered. "Oh, and start cleaning up the filth around here. Harry and I will most likely be residing at Grimmauld Place for quite a while."

"Of course, Master," Kreacher replied obediently.

"I'll be up in the drawing room. When Professor Dumbledore gets here, please let him know that. That will be all for now, Kreacher." Sirius dismissed his servant and climbed the first flight of stairs to the drawing room with Harry still strapped to his chest.

When he reached the room, Sirius released a sleeping Harry from his papoose and held him in his arms as he settled into a dark, high backed chair facing a fireplace.

"_Incendio,_" Sirius twirled his wand and flames leapt up in the empty fireplace.

"Ahhh," he sighed. "Harry, what happened tonight?"

His mind ran wild with a thousand different scenarios. If he had apparated to Godric's Hollow instead of taking the damned bike, he could have been there to fend off whatever attacker had come calling for the Potters. Sirius had to fight to remain calm, Harry still in his arms, as he realized that only Peter Pettigrew, the secret keeper, could have given an intruder permission to enter the house.

He silently berated himself. _If I had been secret keeper like James wanted, he and Lily would still be alive. This is all my fault! Damn it, Pettigrew, you loathsome, cowardly halfwit! If I find you, I _will_ end your life like you effectively ended theirs._

During his internal chastisement, one Albus Dumbledore entered number twelve, Grimmauld Place and made his way up the stairs to join his fellow Order member and friend. Softly, he knocked on the door.

"I do believe you called me here to discuss quite the disheartening occurrence, Sirius," Dumbledore's soft, breathy voice broke Sirius' reverie.

"Yes, Albus," Sirius affirmed. "Thank you for coming here on such short notice. Let me draw you a chair."

"You seem to have your hands full, Sirius, and I have a certain chair in mind, if you don't mind."

Dumbledore took out his wand and waved it around, effectively _drawing _a rather comfy looking chair out of thin air. He knew that the two men were in for a long night.

* * *

Author's Note Part Deux: Please let me know what you think of my story by dropping me a review. If you really like my writing, I encourage you to pimp out my story to your friends! Can't wait for Wednesday... *dun dun dun* Half-Blood Prince in theaters! Well, actually, I'll be seeing it at midnight, so yeah, woo go me!


	3. Discussions

Author's Note: I do not own any characters in this story other than Normandy, and well, she's an owl. I am not making any money off of this work; it's just for the sheer pleasure of writing. Woo! Thanks to **Crumple-Horned Snorkack Hunter** for inspiring me to write this fic. Check out her story _Demystifying Lily Evans_!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Decisions**

* * *

"Kreacher, some mulled mead is in order." Sirius called to the air.

Seconds later, the house elf appeared with a tray of two large mugs and an enormous pitcher of mead.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Albus kindly said to the squatty old elf.

"The half-blood thanks me…" Kreacher mumbled

"Kreacher, that's quite enough of that!" Sirius bellowed, waking Harry and causing him to cry. "Damn it all- get me that bottle for Harry!"

"Yes, Master, of course…" Kreacher bowed low to his master before disapparating to the kitchen. He returned shortly with a warm bottle.

"May I hold the young boy?" Dumbledore asked Sirius after Kreacher had made his exit, his bright blue eyes glancing over his half-moon spectacles.

"If it's alright with you, I'd prefer to hold him right now… he's my last connection to his mother and father," Sirius nearly whispered the last part.

Of course Dumbledore understood. Instead of contesting Sirius' response or prodding him for more information on the deaths of James and Lily Potter, Albus pulled a lever on the side of his chair, reclining it back to an even more comfortable position for the time being.

It was a few minutes before Sirius could hold back the stinging, hot tears enough to tell Dumbledore of his findings without a thick throat.

"Albus. They're dead. James and Lily…"

"And I am to assume that since you were secret keeper, it was a slip of your own that caused such a mess?"

"NO!" Sirius yelled before continuing at a lower volume. "No, Albus, I was not secret keeper. Peter Pettigrew was, but it was our intention to mislead anyone who might try to get the secret keeper to share their secret by telling everyone that I was secret keeper."

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed. "So it was Peter who brought this terrible fate upon his friends. How do I know you aren't lying?"

"Albus, I have a feeling that you would know if I were lying. Aren't you an accomplished Legilimens?"

"That I am, but a skilled Occlumens could thwart me," Dumbledore responded.

"Which I am not," Sirius divulged.

"You all are so young to be dealing with such tragedy and Darkness," Dumbledore sighed.

"James and Lily weren't too young to escape Voldemort three times before. And they would have again, if they hadn't trusted in a filthy traitor to keep their family safe. It should have been me! I should have been secret keeper! No Death Eater would have cracked me, gotten me to tell! No-" Albus interrupted his self berating.

"Although I am in agreement that you would have been better suited to this particular situation, I do not believe that a mere Death Eater caused this mayhem. James Potter and Lily Evans were two of the most accomplished wizards I have ever had the fortune to teach. It is my understanding that Voldemort, himself, was the culprit of these murders.

I took the liberty of stopping by my old neighborhood tonight after your owl reached me, and all I can assess from what magic remains in the house that Voldemort _was_ there tonight. He _did_ kill the Potters, James first who I can only assume stood his ground to give Lily a chance to get away, and then Lily when she would not give up her son.

I am unsure of how it happened right now, but I _think_ that the killing curse Voldemort attempted on Harry backfired for some reason."

Sirius was silent for a moment, processing the information Dumbledore had just divulged.

"So, Lord Voldemort is… _dead_?" he finally managed to mumble.

"No," Dumbledore sighed, "unfortunately I do not think he was human enough to die. To put your soul through so much evil, it changes you, as we have been able to see by Tom Riddle's transformation. He is becoming less and less human with every death he is behind, every act of evil he oversees or commits. I do, however, believe that he was severely weakened when his curse shot back at him."

"So what now?" Sirius wondered aloud.

"Well, I am to assume that Grimmauld Place will be yours and Harry's residence for at least the time being?" Albus questioned.

"Yes, for now," Sirius agreed. "Although, this is certainly no place for a small child to live."

"Well, then I suggest we renovate!" Dumbledore quickly summoned some large pieces of parchment and a drafting quill and got right down to business. "The kitchen would need to be updated, although I dare say that Kreacher would be pleased with such an undertaking, so that is entirely up to you. I do feel that you might like to cook for Harry yourself sometime and a fireplace is arguably difficult to make meals with…

The banisters and railings on the staircases will need to be sanded and re-stained, Harry will need a bedroom… and oh! A library would be wonderful for the both of you, you could read to him and teach him all about the magical world before he leaves for Hogwarts.

Do you remember Molly Weasley? She has a son just about Harry's age, I'm sure I could set up a play date.

Oh, and while we're at it, we'll just go ahead and renovate your room as well, if you'd like. The whole thing should take a week, two at the most."

Dumbledore's blue eyes were alight with the possibilities. Sirius wondered how he could switch from somber to excited so quickly and asked him as much.

"Do not get me wrong, Sirius, I am deeply upset by the events of the evening, but I also know that one little miracle survived," Albus gave Harry a once-over before continuing, "practically unscathed, although I know not what he'll remember of this night when he is older. Lily and James Potter would want you, as Harry's godfather and one of their closest friends, to keep life as normal for Harry as possible. They gave you your title, trusting that you would keep going despite their deaths. That is, after all, what godparents are for- the child."

"But what about Pettigrew?" Sirius couldn't just let go of the fact that his school friend had sold Lily and James out to the Dark forces.

"Peter Pettigrew will serve his time. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody are picking him up and transporting him to Azkaban as we speak."

"It all seems too easy," Sirius sounded resigned. "The darkest, most terrible wizard in a century gone, James and Lily's murderer off to Azkaban, you've already figured out how to make this grubby old place livable…"

"Ah, yes, it _does_ seem easy…" Dumbledore acquiesced. "But the real trick here, will be raising dear Harry, and I doubt that _that_ will come easily. Children are, as you know, difficult at times." He chuckled then, knowing all too well what Sirius, James and Remus Lupin did in school while Peter Pettigrew tagged along, longingly trying to fit in.

"We'll need to make funeral arrangements, Albus." The weight of the night was evident in Sirius' voice.

"Yes," was all the headmaster could say in response. After a few beats of silence and a slurp of mulled mead, Dumbledore spoke again. "Tonight, however, we need to rest. I assure you, an energetic one year old can be very exhausting."

"You're more than welcome to stay here, Albus," Sirius offered. "In fact, I insist incase anyone comes calling for my godson."

"Very well. Until tomorrow, then."

Sirius slept fitfully. Harry, in Sirius' own baby bassinet, slept slightly better than his godfather. Albus Dumbledore wrote owls to the Potters' dearest friends through half the night, informing them of the next day's funeral in Godric's Hollow.

The next morning was somber. Sirius dressed Harry in a black jumper and tried to tame the untidy head of hair he had inherited from his father. Lily's almost shockingly green eyes stared up at Sirius from Harry's face where, above his right eyebrow, a thin, lightning bolt-shaped scar had already formed from the cut he received yesterday.

Sirius dressed himself in a black button down shirt with pearl buttons, and a black overcoat and slacks. He met Albus, who was dressed in black wizarding robes, at the front door at precisely eight thirty with a gurgling Harry in his arms. Together, the trio stepped out to the landing stoop and apparated- Dumbledore first, then Sirius, who had Harry on his hip- to Godric's Hollow.

When they arrived at Godric's Hollow, friends of Lily and James soon met up with them. Some arrived by apparition, some by port key, still others by broomstick. Remus Lupin was there before even Sirius and Albus; he had made all of the arrangements.

The group of mourners traveled by the Potters' dormant, broken house on the way to the small graveyard. There, in front of no more than twenty or thirty of their closest friends, James and Lily Potter were put to rest beside each other. Remus, Sirius and Albus spoke about the couple and about Harry, and then the quiet ceremony was over. The small group of mourners turned to chat and say somber hellos to each other, each making their way to where Sirius and Harry sat in the shade of an oak tree to give their condolences.

After the mourners had dispersed, Sirius and Remus went to the fresh graves to carve some last words into the blank headstones. They started with James', their best friend's tombstone:

_James Potter_

_March 27, 1960 - October 31, 1981_

_Age 21_

_Beloved husband and father_

_Fierce friend_

_He died defending his family from evil_

_He will always be missed_

Next, they carved out Lily's tombstone:

_Lily Evans Potter_

_January 30, 1960 - October 31, 1981_

_Age 21_

_Loving wife and mother_

_She died to save her son_

_She will forever be missed_

"Remus," Sirius said as they walked back towards the mangled cottage. "You'll help me raise Harry? I can't do this alone, I don't know how."

"Of course I will… but… what about my 'furry little problem?'" They chuckled, remembering James' old pet name for Lupin's lycanthropy.

"You'll be fine. I promise. Hell, I'll even keep a dog bed in the guest room if you'd like."

"For you or for me, Padfoot?" Lupin questioned.

"Very funny, Moony."

The pair met up with Dumbledore at the gate of the disparate house where Sirius handed Harry off to him.

"We'll just be a moment, Albus. I don't want Harry to see his house like this, could you please hold him while we collect what's salvageable from the house?" Sirius asked.

"Of course, Sirius." Dumbledore responded. "Come here Harry, I believe I may have some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans in my cloak."

Sirius and Remus opened the gate, which was only attached to its post by one hinge now, and walked down the small path that led through the front yard Harry would never get to play in again. Their feet crunched out a somber tune as they made their way to the empty house.

Once inside, Remus pulled a large sack out from his cloak that was bewitched to hold more than it appeared. The duo started out in the small living room off the now empty foyer. Sirius placed all of Harry's toys- his muggle blocks, the small broomstick Sirius had given him for his birthday, as well as a small toy wand and various other toys- in the bag while Remus grabbed photos of the once happy family from the fireplace mantle. Sirius stood over the wooden coffee table where James' Mahogany wand still lay. He picked it up with reverence- the possibility that Harry my use his father's wand when his time came was overwhelming.

They moved throughout the house in the same fashion, finally ending in Harry's room, where almost nothing could be saved. In the small bubble of unharmed space where Sirius found Lily's body and her son the night before, he found her ten and a quarter inch, willow wand under the crib next to a singed photograph of Harry snuggled between both of his parents. Sirius picked up the photograph- his best friend waving up at him- before exiting the mostly destroyed room.

On his way out of the cottage, Sirius paused in the foyer. For some unexplainable reason, he felt the urge to rescan the library as though he missed something. Sure enough, a black, leather bound portfolio caught his eye, although he swore it wasn't there before. He picked it up and examined it. At first it seemed to be an ordinary old muggle portfolio, but he kept staring at the front where a large 'P' was embossed on the front in a dark emerald green. At the bottom appeared a gold script.

_Last Will and Testament of James I. Potter and Lily Evans Potter_

The lettering quickly faded away and all that was left on the front of the folder was the embossed 'P.' Sirius tucked it away in an inside pocket of his traveling cloak before turning to walk out the reattached front door.

Taking Harry back from his old headmaster, Sirius took one last look at the place that held the final moments of his best friend.

"I feel like the rest of today should be one of rest," he said to no one in particular.

"Quite right," Albus agreed. "We have renovations to attend to tomorrow."

"I'll just stay at Grimmauld Place if that's alright with you," Remus suggested. "The funding for my rental apartment has run out as of late, and I suspect the landlord knows of my condition."

"As always, you are welcome in my home," Sirius acknowledged.

With a _pop_, the three men and baby apparated out of Godric's Hollow to rest before the real work began.

* * *

Author's Note Part Deux:

Please let me know what you think of this chapter by dropping me a review. Seriously, it only takes a minute and is 1) the only kind of compensation I get for my efforts, and 2) the only way I can improve my writing through your constructive criticisms.

The 'I' for James middle initial is Ignotus, as in Ignotus Peverell, one of the original owners of the Hallows and a distant relative of James Potter. Since he has no recorded middle name, I took the liberty of giving him one, and since his family had passed down the invisibility cloak, I feel it's safe to assume that they knew who their ancestors were.

Fort those of you who have story alerted or favorited The Godfather, I'd really like to know what you're thinking! At last count I had 81 people stop by my little story and only three reviews. Even if it's just to tell me you like what I'm doing and to keep going, I really appreciate your input. Let me know how to make this better! Wow. Longest note ever.


	4. Growing

Author's Note: I own nothing but my adorable puppy, Achilles. Please enjoy the fruits of my labors. SOOOOOOO sorry for the incredible delay in updating…. Real life got in the way. Thanks so much to **Crumple-Horned Snorkack Hunter** for

inspiring me to write a Harry Potter fanfic in the first place! If you haven't started her story Demistifying Lily Evans, do so now! Now, without further adieu..

Chapter Three:

The renovations to number twelve Grimmauld Place were completed in a week. Sirius sent an owl to his cousin Andromeda who was a gifted transfigurer and a natural home renovator. Andromeda's spunky eight-year-old, Nymphadora, who was born a Metamorphmagus, watched Harry during the renovations and entertained him for hours with her constantly changing hair color.

Together Remus, Sirius, Andromeda and her husband Ted changed the dark, dingy row house into a bright, open, child-friendly space. Andromeda called it 'open-concept' and claimed that a Seer told her it would be all the rage in a decade's time.

The whole house was done in shades of blue, lightening from the deep, rich navy of the kitchen- that was set off by creamy white cabinets- to the almost ethereal sky blue of the new fourth floor sunroom. Harry and Sirius' rooms were now set on the third floor, while Lupin's bedroom (Sirius had insisted he have his own room at number twelve) and a guest room shared the third floor along with a dual-purpose library and study room for Harry. The second floor was an entirely open living space while the ground floor held a formal sitting room and dining room.

The entire renovation crew had tried multiple times to remove the rude painting of Sirius' mother Walburga Black from the hallway of the ground floor but it had proved to be impossible. Instead, Sirius ordered Kreacher to slide the painting along the walls down to his quarters. This ingenious loophole in the sticking charm was realized by Dora- she refused to be called Nymphadora- proving that sometimes a child's innocence provides the best insight.

When they were through with the renovations, Sirius decided a celebratory dinner was in order. Kreacher prepared a lavish feast in his new kitchen, with almost no foul remarks made due to his immense happiness at receiving such a gift from his master.

After the dinner was over, Sirius put Harry to bed before seeing his guests out. In truth, he was very relieved to be back in contact with his once outcast cousin. The matriarch of the Black family, Sirius' mother, had disowned Andromeda from the rest of the family after her marriage to the muggle-born Ted Tonks, but since Sirius had put her in St. Mungo's after Regalus' death drove her off the edge of insanity, Sirius had reestablished communication with his favorite cousin.

*****************

Remus Lupin finally accepted Sirius' permanent invitation to live with him after six months of practically living at Number Twelve, save nights of his transformation, after revealing to Sirius late one night that James had been supporting him with a portion of his inheritance. This was the night that the duo finally read James and Lily's last will and testament, which had somehow gotten lost during the remodel.

They were sitting in the library late after their weekly dinner with the Tonks family. After putting Harry to bed, they settled down to discuss the day's news, as was common. The best friends settled down into comfortable, over-stuffed chairs, sighing and groaning as the effects of the day finally made their appearance.

"I don't understand why you just won't concede to the fact that you are living here," Sirius mused.

"I am not. It's not safe for Harry to be around me. Do you think James and Lily would appreciate their son being raised by a monster?" Remus retaliated. A small thump sounded in the room, but both men dismissed it as a pop of the firewood.

"You are no monster, Moony," Sirius sighed. "I make the wolfsbane potion for you every month. You're completely harmless."

"I am not harmless!" Remus argued. "I am a monster and I refuse to hurt Harry!" Again, a thump resounded in the room, louder than before. Sirius and Remus stood and unsheathed their wands, carefully looking around.

The thumping sound seemed to be coming from the large mahogany desk that would be Harry's when he was old enough to start practicing magic. Carefully, Sirius approached the desk; all the while, the thumping increased its pace.

A master of performing spells wordlessly, Sirius opened the drawer with a mere flick of his wand. The drawer flew open and onto the floor, the black portfolio spinning and levitating a few inches above it. He stepped closer as the folder spun up onto the wide desk and settled down in the center; the large 'P' glowed bright emerald, accompanied by the gold script below it.

"Sirius, what—"

"It's James and Lily's last wishes," Sirius answered his friend's unspoken but obvious question. "I found it after the funeral, but I don't remember putting it in here at all. I've been searching for it, but no magical means were working…"

"Open it," Remus urged. "Open it, let them tell us what they last desired."

Sirius lifted the soft leather-wrapped covering to expose a length of parchment that looked remarkably like the old map the quartet devised during their school years. The paper looked frail and withered; it was blank except for a heading at the top:

_Only Those Whose Hearts Are True May Read This Will and Follow Through_

Sirius and Remus tapped their wands to the parchment simultaneously and said, "I solemnly swear…"

Words formed on the parchment, then sentences and paragraphs, all in bright crimson, as if the words were written in blood. After the page was fully viewable, the duo stood over it and read to themselves. At the very top of the will was a small letter that appeared in Lily's own script, unlike the rest of the words that were in a muggle typewriter style. Sirius' eyes nearly welled over in tears as he read her kind words.

_I know you'll take great care of him, Sirius, my friend. I know our time will have come too soon, but do not stay sad for long. You are responsible for my son now- for his happiness and wellbeing. I know you'll be an amazing caretaker._ _–Lily _

After Lily's note, the formal will began.

_To Sirius Black III, we leave our son, Harry James Potter, and all of his possessions._

_To Remus Lupin, we leave a portion of the contents of Gringotts vault 687- to keep you safe and comfortable. We ask that you look after Harry along with Sirius to keep them safe._

_To our son, Harry, we leave the remainder of our possessions, our house in Godric's Hollow, vault 687, and our muggle bank account in Whales. Know that we love you with all of our hearts and more._

The rest of the will was filled with legal jargon; Sirius and Remus skimmed through it to the end before tapping the will again and placing back in its folder.

"See," Sirius said. "Even from beyond, James knows you're no monster. He wants you to help me with Harry, are you going to disrespect the dead's wishes?"

"I guess not," Remus responded. "You know, James helped me out after graduation when I couldn't find work."

*****************

Harry Potter started showing signs of magic at age five. Sirius had set him in the corner of the second floor living room for knocking over a lamp while riding his broom in the house. No sooner had Sirius closed the broom away in the cupboard, he heard a _POP!_ and the broom was beside Harry in his corner. Sirius was too stunned and amused to discipline him further.

For his sixth birthday, Sirius and Remus took Harry to a muggle zoo. They saw elephants, tigers, hippos and bears. In fact, the whole outing into the muggle world went swimmingly until they entered the reptile house.

Almost immediately after they entered through the heavy wooden doors, Remus knew something was different. All of the snakes in their various exhibits turned to face the two men and the child they accompanied. As they continued through the exhibit, every python, viper, cobra and rattler kept their eyes trained on the trio. Remus was about to write it off as nothing more than the snakes reacting to the magic that surrounded the peculiar humans when Harry walked up to a particularly large exhibit containing an equally large boa constrictor.

He hissed at the snake and it hissed back. He took a step to the left; the snake slithered along with him. Sirius was amused until young Harry told the zookeeper that the snake would like to have something larger than a rabbit for his next feeding, and preferably alive. Sirius and Remus quickly escorted their young charge away from the reptile house to a nearby park bench.

"Harry," Sirius questioned. "How did you know the snake had a rabbit to eat last?"

"He told me," Harry stated simply.

Unable to comprehend what the young boy meant, Remus asked for clarification.

"I just told you," Harry responded like the two adults were dense. "He told me he had a rabbit this morning, but that he hates rabbits. He wanted me to let him go, but then you made me leave."

"Harry, why don't you go look at the flamingos over there?" Sirius pointed to the salmon colored birds across the path and Harry complied.

"Remus, could he really be a Parseltongue?" Sirius asked in a hushed whisper.

"It's my understanding that that is a trait passed down through family," Lupin replied. "Slytherin himself was said to have spoken the snake language, but surely James would have told us if he could've done that. We were his best friends!"

"Surely. And Lily was muggle-born, so she couldn't have…"

"Uncle Sirius, Uncle Moony, can I go see the lion again?" little Harry asked.

The two men dropped the subject for the time being and spent the rest of their zoo day entertaining the bubbly, inquisitive six-year-old.

*****************

On Harry's ninth birthday, Sirius and Remus began teaching him about magic. They used the great mahogany desk to show Harry how to make simple potions, taught him about the history of magic and even showed him how to perform some spells he would learn his first year. Sirius thought this early training was essential, given that Harry was constantly getting into mischief at Grimmauld Place and whenever he visited his playmates Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, mentioned to Remus one time when he was picking Harry up from a play date at the Burrow (the Weasley's house) that his troublesome outbursts most likely were stemming from boredom.

Remus and Sirius taught Harry spells and charms and incantations; they taught him how to make elixirs and philters and potions of varying degrees of difficulty; Sirius even went so far as to casually start preparing Harry for the arduous task of becoming an Animagus, which both Sirius and Remus agreed should be done as quickly as possible as another safety measure. After all, an unregistered Animagus could go anywhere in their animal form and not be discovered if they were careful.

The summer before Harry's eleventh birthday was the most interesting by far. Albus Dumbledore, who was not an unheard of guest of Number Twelve, made many appearances over the summer. During one of his last visits, he sat Harry down to give him one of many fatherly sorts of talks on attending Hogwarts.

"Harry," he said as they settled down in the comfortable chairs in front of the library fireplace. "I am aware that you have been learning how to concoct some potions and have practiced some wand work with a toy wand."

"Yes sir," Harry squeaked in his prepubescent ten-year-old voice.

"And am I to assume you are excelling?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes sir, Professor Dumbledore." Harry replied.

"I will expect you to behave properly during your time at school," Dumbledore continued. "You have had a unique childhood so far, Harry. Most at Hogwarts will only know about you that which they have heard or read from the press. Not all of these things will be true, and most will be exaggerated. Do not lose yourself as you find your place at Hogwarts. Your parents gave up everything so that you could succeed."

Harry was left dumbfounded. Such a conversation was very heavy to a ten-year-old.

"Well, have a licorice wand," the Professor insisted.

Harry took the gift as his soon-to-be Headmaster walked into the fire grate and said his goodbyes to the Boy Who Lived. Bright green flames leapt up around the wizard as he spun into nothingness.

A few days later, Harry's eleventh birthday came about. The party was a small affair, with just Harry, Ron Weasley and family, Neville Longbottom and his Grams and the Tonks family in attendance. Dora, who had graduated Hogwarts with remarkable scores on her N.E.W.T. exams Apparated in from Romania where she was traning to become a Auror with her mentor, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody.

As the party drew to a close, a large, brown Barn Owl flew to the front window and tapped its beak on the closed pane. Remus opened the window to accept the letter the post owl had delivered and dropped a few knuts in the leather pouch attached to its ankle. As he walked back toward the group of cleaning up after the festivities, he chuckled.

"Well, well, well," he smirked. "It appears Harry's Hogwarts letter just came in."

Harry bounced up and down and even hovered for a few seconds, he was so excited.

"What does it say?" he asked energetically.

"Oh the normal," Remus said, handing the letter over Harry's head to his godfather.

"'Harry James Potter is hereby accepted and invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,'" Sirius read. "Well of course he is! He's been on the list since before he was born! Well, this school list will need to be attended to… I guess a trip to Diagon Alley is in order."

Harry went to bed in such a state of excitement that sleep wasn't an option. This was, by far, his best birthday ever. He could not wait until the next morning when he would take another step towards going to magic school.

Author's Note Part Deux: Please let me know what you think of my story by dropping me a review. If you really like my writing, I encourage you to pimp out my story to your friends!


	5. Diagon Alley

Author's Note: So, I guess this is going to be the back-in-college updating schedule… which will be whenever I have time. Sorry, but school comes first! It might please y'all to know that I DO have most of the rest of the story mapped out, so when I have free time, I'll know where I'm going. This story will loosely follow Book One, just with my twist on things. As always, I own my college debt and my adorable puppy only. JKR owns all recognizable aspects and characters.

Chapter Four:

Sooner than he liked, Harry was awoken by his Uncle Remus the morning after his birthday. Harry had been too riled up from his Hogwarts admissions letter to settle down well enough to fall asleep at an acceptable hour; he rubbed his groggy eyes before slipping his glasses over his ears and settled them halfway down his nose and stumbled out of bed. Soon, though, realization dawned on him like the fast rising sun that peeked through his bedroom window- today would be Harry's pivotal trip to Diagon Alley! He quickly threw on the first t-shirt and pair of jeans he could reach, then wrestled with his shoes and socks- hopping down the hallway to his bathroom while trying to simultaneously tie his muggle 'Converse' sneakers.

This wasn't to be Harry's first time to Diagon Alley. In fact, Sirius and _Uncle _Remus (as Harry fondly called him) had taken Harry along with them to run errands so many times that he had taken to sulking down the shop-lined, cobblestone lane kicking small pebbles along with him to avoid looking at the gawking strangers or just to sulk when Sirius wouldn't get him the newest broom Nimbus had to offer the first week it came out. (To be honest, Harry was not a spoiled child in the least, but flying had been his passion for longer than he could remember and his old Clean Sweep Six was missing quite a few tail sticks and sometimes stuttered at takeoff.)

After he had brushed his teeth and combed his unruly hair to remove the tangles (he never _could_ force it to lay flat against his head), Harry rushed down the stairs to the basement kitchen just as Kreacher set out a bowl of oatmeal and a banana for him. He ate in a hurry, eager to get started on the day's errands.

This trip, Harry thought, would be the beginning of a new chapter in his life. Sure, he had learned how to make simple potions and had read about elementary spells in his lessons with his Godfather and honorary uncle, but today, _today_ Harry would be getting his very own spell books and potions ingredients and a wand! He was most excited about the prospect of having his own wand after years of watching Sirius work wonders with his.

Harry was literally hovering in the entry hall by the time Sirius and Remus walked to the door. Sirius placed a loving hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down to earth, chuckling to himself.

"A bit excited, are we?" Sirius asked. "You weren't nearly this enthralled last week when I took you to Diagon Alley to purchase flesh-eating slug repellant."

Harry merely nodded and gulped as he tried to calm himself enough to walk out of Grimmauld Place.

Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry Potter walked out of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place at a quarter 'til nine in the morning, descended the steps to the subway and hopped on the underground on their way to Charring Cross Road. This 'mediocre muggle means of traveling' as Sirius put it was a necessary evil when the trio went out all together: Sirius' motorbike wasn't made for more than two riders at a time; broomsticks were out of the question; Harry nearly got sick any time the two adults even mentioned Apparition and after one too many mishaps with the Floo Network, the Underground seemed the best option.

After the trio navigated the Tubes, they emerged from the depths of the Underground and were met with the sunlight on Charring Cross Road. Harry, Sirius and Remus walked down to the end of the road and stood outside what appeared to muggles to be a dilapidated old shop in a state of disrepair, but what, to those of magic, was revealed as the Leaky Cauldron. The small bar and inn was quaint, but Tom the innkeeper always made sure the place was scrubbed clean.

Every time Harry had walked through the Leaky Cauldron with Sirius or Remus or both of his caretakers together, there were always a few witches and wizards sitting at the bar with a mug of mulled mead or conversing at a table or in a sitting room. Today was no exception. Harry recognized some of the faces of the regulars in the bar: a stout, balding wizard who always occupied the same seat at the bar; a group of decidedly unattractive witches gathered around one table chatting animatedly; as always, Tom the innkeeper. He was still somewhat unused to the hush that would fall over certain places in the wizarding world whenever he would enter, but dismissed it today- his curiosity was otherwise occupied, eyes trained on a man sitting at the far end of the bar hunched over a large mug, his turban threatening to fall off from it's colossal weight that came with the unusual size of it.

As they kept walking through the bar, Harry could not keep his gaze from the strange man in the turban. He wanted to stop and talk to the man- he felt some strange connection to him like an invisible rope towing him in. As the trio neared the strange man, he looked up from his mug and trained his eyes precisely on Harry's. Flustered, Harry looked away.

"Ah, Quirinus, I see you're back from sabbatical," Remus said. "How was it?"

"It was uh, ah, re-re-ref-refreshing," the turban clad man stammered.

Now that he was facing the man, Harry did not recall what about him had made Harry want to be near him. Close up, the man seemed relatively normal, aside from the large purple turban that Harry now knew smelled strongly of garlic at this close range. The man was not old, but was very thin- almost sickly. His face seemed sullen: his pale blue eyes sunk into his head giving him a gaunt appearance.

As the men kept up their conversation, Harry looked around the room and minded his own business until Sirius drew him back in at the mention of his name.

"… actually on our way to Diagon Alley to buy Harry's school supplies. He starts Hogwarts in a month, isn't that right, Harry?"

"Yes, it is Uncle Sirius," Harry proudly responded with a smile.

"Professor Quirrell here is the Muggle Studies Professor, isn't that right?" Remus asked.

"A-actually, Re-Re-Remus, that position was f-f-filled during my sabbatical," Professor Quirrell stuttered. "B-but, the Headmaster graciously g-g-gave me the p-p-post of D-D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts."

"Oh, well the congratulations!" Remus said.

Just at that moment, a gigantic bearded man in an equally large moleskin overcoat hunched through the back door of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed.

"Heya there 'Arry," Hagrid barked in his deep baritone voice. "Whatchoo up to today?"

"We're going to get my school supplies from Diagon Alley!" Harry couldn't hide his enthusiasm. "What about yourself?"

"Oh, ah, just uh, runnin' some errands for Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid hedged as he petted his oversized coat pocket absentmindedly. "Welp, gotter be on my way now. Grounds need a tendin' to… It was nice ter see you Harry. Sirius, Remus, you too."

With that, Hagrid took three massive steps toward the door to the muggle world, hunched over and stepped through the door.

"Well," Sirius hedged, "I guess we should be on our way as well. It was nice to talk with you, Quirinus. Good luck with the upcoming school year."

"Th-thank you," the professor stammered before turning back to his drink.

Sirius, Harry and Remus joined back together and walked towards the small door at the back of the bar. Without missing a beat, Sirius turned the knob and the three stepped out into a cold, stone courtyard that was seemingly empty, save a few rubbish bins. Sirius walked up to the gritty, dilapidated old wall and tapped a pattern on it with his wand before taking a step back.

Harry never grew tired of the things magic could do. It still amazed him, no matter how many times he saw it, whenever a book would come floating across the library room at Number Twelve towards Sirius or Remus without even so much as a mumble from either of them. It never ceased to leave him in awe when Kreacher would apparate in the house and just pop into existence wherever he was called. And it certainly never failed to enthuse him whenever the bricks and mortar of the old, beaten up wall behind the Leaky Cauldron melted away and reformed as an archway into Diagon Alley. He always felt as if the whole idea of magic was surreal, like he didn't belong in it but was still happy to be apart of it nonetheless.

Today however, Harry felt a new sense of purpose as he stepped across the threshold into Diagon Alley with his caretakers. Today, Harry would no longer be a bystander in the magical world. Today, Harry felt, he was truly joining the magical world. Today was about _him_. They were here to buy _his_ robes, _his _books, _his_ wand.

Sirius pulled his godson out of his reverie as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him through the crowded street toward the grandiose marble building that was Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

Outside the bank was another trio, this time a man and woman who were nervous and very obviously muggles and a small, bushy-haired girl whose eyes were alight with the enchantment Harry remembered he had experienced during his first trip to Diagon Alley. Harry tugged on his godfather's sleeve and motioned towards the other trio.

"What are those muggles doing in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked.

"They are most likely accompanying their magical daughter to get her school supplies," Sirius answered Harry before walking directly to the outsiders in what he hoped was a friendly and unassuming manner. "Good day muggles- er, I mean good day Sir and Madam…?"

"G-Granger," the man said, obviously nervous that a wizard had approached him and his family.

"Well, then Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, is there anything I can do to help you out?" Sirius asked. "I don't mean to pry, but you do look dreadfully lost… Oh! My name is Black, Sirius Black. So sorry for not introducing myself sooner! How impolite…"

Sirius ended his rant with a small but genuine smile and was rewarded with an answering smile from Mrs. Granger.

"We are lost," she confessed. "Not lost as in we physically do not know where we are because of course we know we are standing in front of the Wizarding bank, but we are lost as to what to do next." She was visibly flustered and huffed after she finished speaking, as if she has finally let out some pent up frustration.

"I assume you need to exchange some of your muggle- er, uh _non-magical_ money for wizard money, yes?" Sirius hedged.

"Yes, we do," Mr. Granger responded.

"Well then follow us inside. Oh, where are my manners today? This is my friend Remus Lupin and my godson Harry Potter. We're here to get Harry's school supplies for his first year at Hogwarts." Sirius seemed to be as proud- if not more- as Harry was about shopping for his school things.

"Yes, nice to meet you," Mr. Granger said. "You met my wife already. This is our daughter Hermione, she has also been accepted to Hogwarts School, which would account for our being here in this marketplace."

As the six ascended the marble stairs to the wide doors of Gringotts Bank, Harry walked next to Hermione Granger and gave her a smile when she looked his way. Harry thought she seemed nice enough by the look of her.

"I'm Harry," Harry said while walking through the huge doors of Gringotts, "Harry Potter."

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione responded.

Sirus led Hermione's parents over to the exchange counter and offered to escort them around Diagon Alley. The Granger's quickly accepted the offer and went with Harry, Sirius and Remus to the Potter Family Vault, where Harry and Sirius discreetly took out a handful of Galleons from the filled vault.

When they returned to the surface, Harry, Hermione, Sirius, Remus and Mr. and Mrs. Granger all set off down Diagon Alley to get started on the children's school shopping. They started their excursion with a visit to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions where they purchased several sets of standard black school robes for Harry and Hermione and a single set of dress robes for Harry upon Sirius' insisting.

Next, they went to Pottidge's Cauldron Shoppe, then to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary where they bought scales and potions ingredients. After the apothecary, the group entered Flourish and Blotts to buy the standard year one schoolbooks. Hermione looked positively radiant when she saw all of the different text books- Harry thought that she must be smart and enjoy learning; he added these thoughts to the list of Hermione's traits in his head. _So far_, he thought, _she's smart and nice_.

After they had purchased all of their books, the group decided to take a break from all of the shopping and stopped at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Sirius slipped away from the rest for a few minutes, and when he returned, carried a cage with a beautiful Snowy owl inside. Harry was beside himself with joy when he realized that this owl was a gift for him.

"I'll name her Hedwig," he said, his smile permanently affixed to his face. "You can use her too, Hermione, if you want."

"Use her?" Hermione asked, perplexed. "Use her for what?"

"For sending letters home, of course," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

After their ice cream break, the group continued to its final shopping destination, Ollivander's Wand Shop. The shop itself was old and worn down: the gold lettering that bore its name had peeled away in some places and the single wand in the display window was covered in a thin film of dust, along with most of the rest of the shop. The only piece of furniture in the shop was a spindly stool. Nearly every other inch of the shop was covered- floor to ceiling- in wand boxes.

Mr. Ollivander, an old and practiced wand maker and fitter, placed Hermione with her proper wand on the second try. Hers was ten and three-quarter inches, made from Vine wood with a Dragon heartstring core. Harry's wand, however, took much longer to find. Mr. Ollivander tried many a combination of different woods and cores to no avail. Sometimes, Harry would barely touch the newest wand Mr. Ollivander had presented him before having it snatched away by the wand maker as he mumbled to himself.

Finally, as the day was drawing to a close, Mr. Ollivander decided to try a wand he had not offered to anyone in some ten years. He walked up to the display window and retrieved the wand that had been there for so long it had dust on it along with the purple pillow upon which it lay. All the while, he mumbled things to himself. Harry only caught a few of the phrases, such as "curious," "couldn't be," and "what if," before the old man was standing in front of him, arms straight out, presenting the featured wand.

Harry made a move to pick it up, but before he even reached the wand, it twitched on the pillow.

"Curious, very curious," Ollivander mumbled.

Perplexed, Harry took the wand in his right hand and lifted it off the pillow. He immediately knew that this was the wand for him. Unlike all of the wands before, which felt like pieces of wood in his hand, this wand felt like an extension of his arm, like it was a part of him. It felt right.

Sparks erupted from the end of the wand and an odd smile stretched across Mr. Ollivander's face.

"Very curious, indeed," the old man said. "Holly, eleven inches with a Phoenix feather core… very peculiar."

"Uh, excuse me," Harry politely interrupted the old man's rambling, "but why do you keep saying 'curious' and 'peculiar?'"

"Because," said the wizard, "this wand has a twin… and it was its twin which gave you that infamous scar."

Harry quickly paid for his wand and the group of six set out to return to the Leaky Cauldron. They parted ways inside the Leaky Cauldron, the Granger family to their car parked down the street while Sirius, Remus and Harry- to Harry's chagrin- apparated home, Harry by side-along apparition.

Once the trio was safely back in Grimmauld Place, they tried to forget about the eerie end to an otherwise wonderful day. Harry was glad to have made a new friend in Hermione and was even more excited about starting school in a month than he had been earlier in the morning. To Harry, having a wand made everything more real. _Real wizards have wands_, Harry thought, _so now I'm a real wizard too_.

The boy who lived fell fast asleep, in stark contradiction to the previous night. He dreamed of Hogwarts and friendship and fun. Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus discussed in hushed whispers the implications of Harry's wand. They couldn't shake the thought that something odd was afoot.


End file.
